Why
by QuiteQuiet
Summary: On their last weekend at Beacon Academy, the members of Team RWBY depart to a forest and contemplate what led to their partnerships. [White Rose, Bumbleby] [also featured: author/embarrassment, because this is the most dramatic and unnecessary RWBY fanfiction that I will hopefully ever write]


_**Author's Note: Hey all, QuiteQuiet here, with the last story here for perhaps quite a while. I want to spend less time online, and decided my parting gift would be an exploration of my current reasoning behind two of my favorite ships, the ever-present White Rose and Bumbleby.**_

 _ **There is a good chance I'll post something next month. After that, this account won't be terribly active.  
For everyone who's followed me, past or present, new or veteran, thank you.**_

 _ **Revised 1/23/2016.  
**_

* * *

They hiked toward the forest, a blue sky over them, six boots and a pair of heels thumping the flower-spotted grass under their feet. The creek ran three feet below the greenery, trickling loud enough to be heard over the edge of the bank surrounding it. It followed the four members of Team RWBY as they made their way toward the forest, Yang in front and Blake near her side, with Ruby and Weiss next to each other not far behind. It was a simple lunch, not needing blankets or baskets, and the only item carried besides was the bouquet of roses Weiss had given Ruby. Tucked carefully into a beautiful arrangement, the plastic cone housing them was cinched in the middle by a gold-painted metal band, making it easier to hold. Ruby had accepted them with a great smile, and, before any halfhearted rejections could be made, burst into a display of her own roses as she'd tackled Weiss with all her might. She'd fingered through the bouquet here and there down the creek, once raising it to her face and taking in a big sniff before she lowered it again and twined Weiss's hand under hers.

Up ahead came the forest, and just a yard away from it a flat stone warmed itself in the sun. Yang and Blake stopped and turned around to face the others. They all looked at each other one by one in silent understanding, and as Ruby and Weiss sat down on the stone, Yang and Blake headed into the forest.

There were still silent as they moved between the trees. They were side-by-side now, and traveled across the forest until they found a ring of rocks and mushrooms just big enough to hold the two of them. Yang tilted her head at Blake and then the ring, which was agreed upon with a nod. They settled down and unraveled their sandwiches from their plastic bags—Yang's peanut butter and jam, Blake's tuna as always—and ate in tranquil isolation during their last weekend at Beacon.

Yang sat with her knees up, resting her elbows on them as she stared off into the distance. She was thinking of the band around Ruby's flowers. They'd all been thinking in the past few weeks, though when she checked Blake she found the girl eating deadpan as the night they met. It was possible something was on her mind, but some things about Blake were so subtle it occasionally got hard to tell. Yang considered this as she started the second half of her sandwich. Not a minute later, Blake lowered hers and said, "You're thinking about something."

She wasn't facing Yang. Yang, surprised, said, "How do you know that? You're not even looking at me."

"It's obvious when you're pondering something."

Obvious. Blake had said it without a change in tone, but it made its point. Yang flitted her gaze to a tree, then one of the mushrooms on the ground. She drummed her fingers on her knee and said, "Okay."

"I'm just saying."

"I know. I like that you said something."

"Okay."

They finished their sandwiches. Yang took a granola bar out of her pocket while Blake popped open a bag of grapes. She was almost through with them when she said, "So what is it you're thinking?"

Yang gave up. "Us." There was a long silence. "I mean." She lowered her legs to a crisscross and rotated to look at Blake. "We've been together around two years, and it's been great, but I can't figure out what's kept it this way. We spend a lot of time with each other because we were partnered in the Emerald Forest, and, well." Her chest felt tight as she let out a half-sigh and motioned toward herself and Blake. "We're so different."

Blake was listening, her face calm, and after Yang finished she turned away and kept eating. Yang looked down, defeated. Blake chewed another grape, swallowed, then said, "We're not that different."

"Are you crazy?" Yang asked.

"No. Well, maybe. Some of our hobbies are different. And you like big social events more than I do. But I think at some point, we started bringing out the parts of each other that were buried deep down."

They were looking at each other again, and Yang lingered on the yellow in Blake's eyes. "Can you explain?" she said. "I've never been the best at dissecting the hidden meanings of great novels."

"Novels. There's a start," said Blake. She half-shrugged with one shoulder before continuing. "When we met, I was reading a book. About two sides of one man fighting for control over his body. It was something I'd been thinking about, after leaving the White Fang and joining Beacon and wondering deep down, if there was really some part of a Faunus that made me more wild than regular people. I read it for fun, but I was drawn to it to see if it could answer the questions I was asking."

"You did always have a lot of depressing books on our shelf," said Yang.

"It's because I didn't get a chance to grow up like everyone else," said Blake. "Books let me understand the world from a distance. And at some point, it's all I turned to. I wanted to step into the real world, but I was so scared of my lack of experience that I never really tried."

"Irony," Yang said.

Blake smiled. "One of the greatest devices in literature." She wrapped up the remainder of her grapes. "That's what it is, Yang. After I joined Beacon, I was pushed to be in the world. Not just by fighting the people I didn't like, but discovering things with friends. All of you. You guys, Sun's team, and everyone else. Good and bad, it was all worth it." She wrung the wrapper slowly around one finger, then put her other hand on Yang's shoulder. "And you mean the most to me, Yang. In the end, it was you I wanted to turn to. Being with someone so outgoing and direct really helped me grow up. And now, I feel ready to face the world."

She held in place for a few seconds, then lifted her hand and kept eating. Yang contemplated the words, digested them slowly.

She said, "And I was always in the action. Never stopped, had to keep rushing into things. Really, a lot of it was because I wished I would somehow find my mother while traveling the world, and that she'd see I was strong and could take care of myself. That she'd be proud of me. But really, I also hated missing out on having a mother, so there was some part of me that wanted to go back and have her with me as I grew up." She thought about it, and it sank in. "I was always running into the future, but I wanted to be safe in the past."

"And I used to be safe in my books," said Blake.

"You pushed me to think about it, Blake," said Yang. "Always so solid and logical—that's what I thought, at first—but you were so good at keeping a calm head among the team, it helped me slow down and see running around and having adventures wasn't the way to escape my mother's abandonment. It looked like the present moment, but really I was running away. Just as you thought you were when you went to Beacon."

"So," said Blake.

"So somehow," said Yang, "In the past four years, we showed each other what was going on beneath the surface."

Blake nodded, and leaned into Yang. She nestled on the spot below Yang's shoulder, putting her arms around the blond's and closing her eyes. Yang gazed into the air again, into the deep space beyond the trees. She thought of the little gold rings she'd passed in the display window of a jewelry store at the mall. She'd stopped, first out of confusion; the rings were intricately welded, but the gold was thrown off by the big black onyxes in their centers. It was no classic proclamation of love, and Yang wondered why such an odd-looking pair would be on display among diamonds and pearls. But the more she looked the more she felt drawn to them, and even humored herself over complete seriousness asking the price. It was more than she could afford, now, at this point in time, but first she wanted to understand the tie between her and Blake. Now she had an idea, and as the fingers of one hand passed through Blake's hair and over the velvet of her pointy ears, she exhaled with the assurance they could take it one day at a time.

Somewhere across the woods, the stream ran in the background. It kept running forth all the way from its beginning, beyond where Ruby and Weiss were sitting on the rock. They hadn't started eating yet, and their lunches were between them. Ruby was holding up the bouquet, swinging her legs across the air, just enjoying Weiss's company. She looked from the creek to the grass and picked a white daisy that was by her feet. She gave it to Weiss, who took it, gently, and rolled the stem in her fingers. She'd been quiet, too quiet. Ruby stopped swinging and looked down at her. Weiss was hunched, drooping with her elbows on her knees, and her head was hung in regret. Ruby leaned in, and below the film that had formed over Weiss's eyes, she spoke in a hushed tone with one word: "Why?"

Ruby leaned back, and tilted her head. "You were in pain," she said. "And I think I could always see that." She started sifting through the roses again. "When we met we didn't get along, but there was something in me that wanted to let you know I was capable. Well, I wanted everyone to know, but mostly you. Even though you judged me, I still wanted to be your friend. We knew each other first. And I was in pain. Because I lost my mother." Her fingers drifted over another set of petals, then stopped. She set the bouquet in her lap. "And…well, when we became partners, it was easier for me to see over time that something happened to you, too. And that you were broken. And that you needed to be fixed."

She stopped for a moment, staring out to the creek. As the water trickled over the rocks, Weiss slid her hand out and took it in Ruby's own.

"You're still Weiss," said Ruby, more casually. There was a bit of a smile as she said it. "Still prickly, still a princess. But you've gotten better. And that shows those things were a part of you. And even if they are, you're not as guarded, not as hurt. You're more stable." Ruby paused, listening to a tiny breeze ruffling the grass. "And after you opened, I fell in. It didn't hurt as much anymore, because you were there. And I was always flattered that you let me be a part of the process."

She smiled at the memory, and raised the flowers again. She had picked up her sandwich when Weiss grabbed onto her, clinging, and buried herself in Ruby's chest. The plastic on the cone crinkled as Ruby nudged it aside to give her room, and as Weiss took in her first shuddering breath, they both smelled the scent of roses.

Their lunches lay forgotten, sandwich and salad warming in the sun. Ruby put an arm over Weiss's back and Weiss pressed in, her chokes turning into sniffles and then to rest. Her body loosened, and she lay against the sound of Ruby's heartbeats until she fell asleep. Ahead of them the creek continued to run, cricking ceaselessly down its sifting road and streaming into the forest where Blake and Yang sat in reflection, two pairings, two partners each, reaching a feeling and an understanding for some of the strands of miraculous delight that had taken them each so far.


End file.
